“Duende” is one of those words that doesn't really have a direct translation in English, which makes it even more interesting and a bit mysterious. The term comes from Spanish folklore — originally, it referred to a kind of mischievous spirit or goblin-like creature. But over time, it evolved into something way deeper and more poetic, especially in the context of art. 

The poet Federico García Lorca really brought the concept of "duende" into the artistic spotlight. To him, "duende" wasn't just a ghost or a goblin; it was this dark, visceral, spiritual force that gives art its soul and makes it transcend the ordinary. It's like this raw, emotional power that comes from deep within, something primal that connects with an audience on a visceral level. It's not about technique or skill — it's about what hits you straight in the gut: that thing that makes art feel alive and dangerous. You feel it in your bones.

Lorca described "duende" as a kind of spirit of the earth, a force that comes from within the artist but also from something bigger, something cosmic. It’s the thing that makes a flamenco dancer stomp harder, that makes a singer's voice crack with pain, that gives a painter’s brushstroke that unexpected, haunting energy. It's unpredictable, it can't be faked, and it often shows up in moments of great emotion, like sorrow, love, or even rage.

Lorca said that "duende" is born in moments of risk and uncertainty, where there's no safety net. It’s not something you learn or practice; it’s something you confront — like staring into the abyss and letting whatever comes out of it shape art. It’s the fearlessness to be vulnerable and real, to go beyond just looking pretty or polished, to create something that stirs the soul.

So “Duende” is this mysterious force that makes art truly alive, the thing that makes you feel like you're being seen and felt at your most raw and human. It’s not safe; it’s not easy; it’s powerful.

“Duende” in connection to Clara Schumann:

Clara Schumann was a powerhouse in a world where women weren't even supposed to have opinions, let alone be virtuosos and composers. She dealt with so much — like the death of her husband, Robert Schumann, her own battles with depression, raising kids on her own, and still managed to tour Europe, play concerts, and compose music that still resonates. She was a survivor, holding it together when everything was trying to break her down.

Therefore “Duende" explores the tension between light and darkness, control and chaos — like Clara’s life itself. The work could research the contrast between the poised, composed exterior she had to present to the world and the inner turmoil, the raw passion, and grief she felt. The music, her music, is full of both restraint and unrestrained emotion.

Unlike "muse," which is often associated with inspiration that comes from an external source, or "angel," which suggests a divine or celestial influence, "duende" is about finding beauty in the rawness of sensations and depths of human experience. It's almost like a creative possession, where the artist channels something raw, something that feels almost uncontrollable, like a force of nature that's bigger than them, revealing the creature that we are.